


counting stars

by khrysallis



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fashion & Models, Alternate Universe - Photographer, Awkward Romance, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-07
Updated: 2017-07-07
Packaged: 2018-11-28 23:08:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11428176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/khrysallis/pseuds/khrysallis
Summary: Yifan's life changes from the moment he meets Jongin on a small job. The problem? His past stands in the way.





	counting stars

**Author's Note:**

> Dear prompter, I'm sorry but the story didn't really turn out the way I had imagined it at first, but time constraints are a pain in the ass, unfortunately. I hope it still satisfies you regardless!
> 
> Also, wow, KaiRis without smut. What has happened to me?

Every man has his secret sorrows which the world knows not;  
and often times we call a man cold when he is only sad.  
\- Henry Wadsforth Longfellow, _Hyperion_  
_________________________________________

 

 

 

The room is in a flurry of activity, with workers busy setting up the equipment required for the upcoming photoshoot and doing some last minute adjustments to the set. The air is filled with the sound of metal clanging against metal, charged with a low buzz of energy and intermixed with the pleasant hum of casual conversation, though everyone pauses in their work to greet Yifan when he passes them by.

These are sounds which Yifan is more than familiar with, though, having worked in the photography industry for years. He's by no means a famous professional photographer—not yet, anyway—but his name and work are known _enough_ amongst the fashion fraternity to book himself a fair amount of jobs to get by. 

This time, Yifan had received a call from Kibum—better known as Key—a relatively well-known indie designer who requested for Yifan to shoot several catalogue spreads for his latest range of menswear. Yifan had of course accepted the job without second thoughts, not only because this is a courtesy call for a good friend of his, but because getting booked as a photographer for any well-known brand is always a plus in his résumé. Any and all pathways to get his name out _there_ in order to fish for the bigger labels need to be explored. 

That is where the difficult part of the job comes in.

Yifan finds out at the last minute that he's supposed to shoot a rookie model named Kai, whom Yifan has never heard of before. He's tried looking for Kai's past photoshoots in magazines, just to get an idea of how to potentially shoot him in the best possible way, but oddly, Yifan comes across none of it. Exactly how new of a model _is_ he, anyway, and why would Kibum risk his label's name by picking someone who's virtually unknown to model his clothes? 

He gets his answer an hour and a half before the scheduled photoshoot begins, when a sleepy-looking boy who doesn't look like he's any older than twenty stumbles into the studio. There's another more alert middle-aged man beside him, hand firm on the boy's elbow to guide him around. Yifan presumes the latter to be his manager. 

"Good morning, everyone," the boy greets with a bow, eyes barely open as he makes—or tries to, anyway—eye contact with everyone in the room. "I'm Kai, and I will be working with you today. Please guide me well."

"Good morning, you're here early!" Seulgi, a stylist who works exclusively under Key greets him cheerfully on Yifan's behalf, probably sensing the disapproval radiating off of Yifan. Yifan's so used to working with models who are upbeat from the start, flashing two rows of pearly whites as they say hello and introduce themselves to every staff member on set, and the boy's sluggish mannerisms are rubbing him the wrong way. Seulgi seems to notice this, and she nudges Yifan in a reprimanding manner with her elbow as she passes him by. "Why don't you follow me, and we'll get your makeup and clothing done for you?" 

She has already taken hold of the taller boy's shoulders—he has at least half a foot on her, and Yifan's rather amused by the odd sight—and is currently steering him towards the dressing room located around the back, but it doesn't stop Seulgi from turning back to narrow her eyes at Yifan. _Be nice_ , she seems to be chastising Yifan silently, to which Yifan responds with a placating nod and flashes an 'okay' sign at her. 

"Sorry," Kai's manager says to Yifan when the pair is out of earshot. "He's terrible with early mornings. I'm still trying to train it out of him."

"Don't worry about it. I know how it feels," Yifan responds with a smile, waving him off as Kai's manager bounds off to join his charge in the dressing room. He _does_ get it, though. His best friend, Yixing, has told him on more than one occasion that Yifan practically turns into a fire-breathing dragon if anyone happens to drag him out of bed much too early for comfort. Yixing, of course, is the only one who's immune to Yifan's wrath. Or maybe he simply doesn't care. Or maybe Yixing lives to watch Yifan suffer. 

Yifan surmises the last of the three is true. 

Sighing, Yifan heads off to ensure that the last of the preparations are complete. He pauses at his workstation when he takes note of a prominent magazine cover. Godfrey Gao, a renowned supermodel hailing from Canada, is featured on the latest cover of _Hommes_ , looking cocky but stunning enough in a simple Burberry ensemble, though Yifan flips it over the moment he's done taking in the shot, allowing the advertisement for Rolex watches on its back cover to see the light of day. 

He frowns a little, and pushes Godfrey's intense gaze out of his mind. There's no time for this; he has a long, long day ahead with the rookie model, after all.

★ ★ ★

Kai is a completely transformed person the moment he steps out of the dressing room, a proud-looking Seulgi walking out after him, evidently happy with her handiwork. The sleepy boy with half-lidded eyes covered by his soft fringe from before is gone, replaced by someone who really could pull off the title of a model. The Kai that's standing before the room right now is dressed in a sleek black suit which hugs the lines of his body snugly, the accessories Seulgi had put on him giving him an air of royalty, and his eyes are done up with a smoky effect, bringing out the darkness of his irises even more.

It's almost as though Kai is giving everyone a come-hither stare when he takes in his surroundings, and Yifan gulps at the sight. Kai is deadly attractive, with his high cheekbones and pouty lips, and suddenly Yifan realises just why Kibum had decided to use him to model Kibum's new range of clothes. Kai _knows_ how to carry off the outfit the stylists put on him; Yifan thinks it might be his innate ability to do so. 

Then again, being horribly put off by Kai's sleepy demeanour this morning, Yifan reserves his judgement for later. The photoshoot hasn't even started, and they have five different sets of clothes to go through, after all. Yifan has come across a fair share of newbie models who can carry off the clothes when they're seen in the flesh, but would fail horribly when they're put to the test before the camera, not knowing how to angle their bodies to produce the best possible effect on print. 

Yifan wonders which group Kai belongs to.

Mercifully, Kibum strolls into the studio in all his overdressed glory just then, greeting everyone brightly and clapping Yifan once on the back, a wide grin on his face. "I see you have become acquainted. You must be wondering why I picked him to model my clothes." 

Yifan flushes a little at the question. Trust Kibum to be able to read him like an open book. But he's not about to let the situation turn awkward right now, so he shrugs and says, "You know I always have faith in your choice of models, Key. So what is the concept you're gearing for today?"

At least, Yifan's question seems to be successful enough in diverting Kibum's attention, and he launches into an excited elaboration of his concept. Kibum usually takes over as the creative director for the shoots involving his designs, and they're always vibrant and exciting, just like his clothes. Apparently, Kibum is aiming for a Victorianesque atmosphere this time, which explains the ruffles on Kai's white shirt that's peeking out of the lapels of his sleek black suit.

Just before they start, though, Kibum suddenly asks if they have any red contact lenses lying around, and when he receives the affirmative, he turns to Seulgi with an excited twinkle in his eyes. "Are you, by any chance, good at painting realistic-looking blood?" 

Seulgi seems affronted by the question, pressing a hand against her chest in mock hurt. "Why, of _course_ , Key. What do you take me for?" 

It's insane. Kai disappears with Seulgi into dressing room for another ten minutes, and reappears looking like a classical vampire from the movies. A very hot one, with an intense bloodthirsty gaze to complete the look, if Yifan might add. But it'll be a cold day in hell before he even admits it aloud, so instead, he puts on an impassive face while the rest of his staff, men and women alike, gush over Kai. 

"Ready?" Yifan asks when Kai finally takes his place on the set, and it's almost unfair how he _belongs_ there, transporting them back to the past with his aristocratic looks. "You have about a hundred frames for each outfit. Just do whatever you're comfortable with doing, and I'll guide you along if we ever stumble upon a block." 

"Yeah, sure," Kai smiles, looking a lot more alert now that he's had something to drink in the dressing room. It's still shy, though, completely different from the confident air he gave off earlier. "Ready when you are." 

It turns out Kai didn't really need any guidance from anyone at all, despite the fact that he's still new to the industry. The light in his eyes is completely different from the boy who had first walked into the studio that morning the moment the camera shutter goes off, all confident uptilts of his chin and smouldering gazes as he engages the lens. The lines of his body are fluid, easily changing his position as he lounges lazily on the settee. It almost seems effortless on his part, almost like he's a professional who's been working on the set for _years_. 

Yifan actually manages to get the best shot for Kai in each outfit in under thirty frames— _that's_ how amazingly easy it is to work with him—but he doesn't stop Kai, merely letting him come up with as many poses as he possibly can. It's more interesting like this, combing through his photos later to find out just how many great shots he has of his models, and it gives Yifan the excitement he needs to keep working. A photographer's enthusiasm only goes as far as the professionalism and workability of the model they're shooting, and Kai's an absolute pleasure to capture on film. 

"And that's a wrap!" Yifan calls out when he completes the final frame for the last outfit of the day, not feeling at all mentally drained for the first time in a long while. "Thank you for the good job today, Kai. You were great. Go on and change out of those clothes if you want while I sift through these shots." 

Kai nods mildly, again reverting to the shy boy personality Yifan had seen in the beginning, and disappears into the dressing room once again to change. It's almost mind-boggling, how he's the epitome of confidence in front of the lens, only to appear completely unsure of himself when he's behind it, but Yifan is not complaining. It's much better than having to deal with haughty models who think they're all that, and refuse to listen to instructions even when they're doing badly. 

"How are the shots? Are they any good?" A deep voice suddenly speaks up next to Yifan while he's filtering through the shots with Kibum—they haven't eliminated _any_ of it yet for being terrible, and the amount of photos being sent to the 'Usable' folder just keeps growing—and Yifan practically jumps in surprise. He turns sharply to his left where the voice had spoken, only to find a sheepish-looking Kai who's back to sweater and jeans, and he _still_ looks so bloody good with his hair styled up. 

"Sorry," Kai mutters, putting a small distance between their bodies when he realises he's standing in Yifan's private space. "I get a little too excited by these things sometimes." 

"I can see that," Yifan tells him, hoping the hint of a smile can be heard in his words. Judging by the way Kai's smiling shyly back at him, he supposes his usually cold appearance hasn't scared Kai off just yet. "You gave me a lot of good shots to work with, actually. There's no need to worry." 

"He's not lying," Kibum adds on when he notices the hesitancy on Kai's features. "Yifan is one difficult photographer to please. Too much of a perfectionist for his own good. If he says you're good, then you're _fantastic_ by everyone else's standards." 

"Really?" Kai's face lights up like a child receiving presents on Christmas Day. Innocent. Out of place in this cruel modelling industry. Yifan wonders how long it'll take before that innocence is eroded out of him. "That's great to hear."

"You can go off if you have to," Kibum smiles. "We'll wrap things up soon. Thank you for your hard work today, Kai." 

Kai bows, and smiles at the pair again, this time lugging his backpack over his shoulders. In the background, his manager is on the phone with someone, tone businesslike, though he keeps throwing glances in Jongin's direction, impatience written on his features. "Great, I'll look out for the copy of the catalogue. Thank you for tolerating me today." 

Just before he leaves, though, Yifan calls after him. "Leave me your e-mail address, if you want me to send you some of the prints." 

"That would be awesome," Kai beams, and quickly scribbles down the address on a piece of scrap paper before handing it back to Yifan, bowing again in gratitude. "Thank you so much. I'll see you around."

★ ★ ★

Kibum's catalogues are completely out of print by the end of the first week, the regular customers of his boutique and other teenage girls alike gushing over the mysterious model gracing its pages. He immediately relays this information to Yifan, telling him he's done a good job with the shots, that his clothes are selling so well he can't cope with the demand.

Yifan laughs and congratulates him, claiming that Kibum has earned all that popularity with his own hands, and accepts yet another job from Kibum for the next batch of new designs. 

He doesn't remember about the slip of paper bearing Kai's e-mail address until very much later, once his commissions for several other photography jobs are done and over with. Even then, Yifan has to let his memory go on a quick jog, because he can't seem to remember where he'd left it. It's been several weeks since his first meeting with Kai after all, and Yifan has been incredibly busy, barely having any time between editing photos and getting some for himself. Sleep is, needless to say, a luxury when he's running on several simultaneous deadlines. 

He finally finds the piece of paper in one of his coats—the very same one he had worn to the photoshoot the other day—and frowns wryly at its sad state. He must've sent it for a wash and had forgotten about its existence, and now it's all crumpled, Kai's writing upon it barely legible. It's probably a good thing Kai hadn't used a gel pen the other day, otherwise the ink would have ran by the time the paper was completely soaked with water.

Not wanting to risk himself an embarrassing encounter, considering the illegible state of the paper, Yifan types up a brief e-mail to Kai.

_Hi, this is Yifan here, the one who photographed you the other day. Did I get the correct Kai? Hope to hear from you soon._

He doesn't attach any files with the e-mail, though, because he knows what a bad idea it is to send his own work to someone without ascertaining the recipient's identity, especially when they're prints without watermarks. After perusing the content of his e-mail once again to weed out any possible grammatical or typo errors he might've committed, Yifan finally hits the send button and powers off his computer, eyes throbbing from the strain he's put them through for the last couple of hours.

Yifan doesn't wait for a reply, balls of his hands pressed against eyelids as he collapses on his bed and surrenders to a deep slumber.

★ ★ ★

The e-mail response from Kai comes back several days later, with him introducing himself as Jongin and inciting a whole lot of confusion on Yifan's part. He's never had an e-mail correspondent who abuses emojis as much as Kai does, so he's incredibly shocked when he opens up the new message in his inbox and finds a wall of heart-eyed emojis staring back at him.

Yifan had very nearly deleted the e-mail without even reading it. It's a good thing his gut feelings told him not to do it, and he manages to catch the words _photoshoot_ and _I've gotten the printed catalogue from Key and it looks amazing!!!!!_ amidst the round yellow faces and exclamation marks, realising that this is someone he's worked with before.

_Jongin, huh_ , he types, smiling a little as he wonders how Kai would react when he realises it—probably like a deer caught in the headlights. _I knew you as Kai, and nearly deleted your mail_.

It's only a teasing remark, of course, but true intentions always carry poorly across words when they're being read through the computer screen. Yifan doesn't mind; it's a field trip, when he imagines how Kai— _Jongin_ —might react to his reply

As expected, Jongin responds with yet another slab of emojis accompanying a simple _sorry, Kai's the stage name my company's forcing me to use, I should have clarified!!! I keep forgetting!_ This is followed by at least five more emojis of a man bowing apologetically.

And Yifan laughs, shaking his head mirthfully as he uploads several prints which he had set aside just for Jongin before hitting the 'send' button.

★ ★ ★

It's another two months before Yifan meets Jongin again on yet another job. This time, though, Kibum isn't the one bringing them together. It's Calvin Klein.

Yifan had been in a state of disbelief when he'd first received the call, because he wasn't expecting a job from such a big firm so soon. It's never easy to get your name recognised out there, especially not with all the other competitors in the industry, but again, Yifan isn't complaining. 

Apparently, the representatives from CK have seen Yifan's portfolio with Kibum's label, and were impressed by the quality of his work—the extent of a model's talent can never be adequately shown through photoshoots alone, and the photographer's job is to try to bring out the best side of a model as they possibly can, with minimal interference. It's clear that they loved Yifan's shots, evident by the continuous gushing of their marketing manager when he meets CK's representatives over coffee that same weekend. 

Yifan's even more surprised while he's busying himself in setting up the studio—the theme this time is contemporary charm, with minimalistic rooms as their backdrop, which puts even more emphasis on the clothes being modelled, as well as being heavily reliant on the photographer's skills to make the model stand out—when a familiar person steps in with his manager in tow. The anxiety Yifan has been having all morning dissipates at once, knowing that Jongin would be a pleasure to work with on set, having had a fantastic experience with him before. 

Jongin doesn't look sleepy at all this time, though, which is rather remarkable in Yifan's books. Then again, the fact that it's already mid-afternoon probably helps, and Jongin's greeting smile is broad when he notices Yifan looking at him.

"Hello, haven't seen you in a while," Yifan says, amiable but not overtly friendly when Jongin heads over to where he is. There are professional boundaries to keep. "Looks like we're working together again this time."

"Yeah, it's been a while," Jongin replies, bowing respectfully at Yifan. "I leave myself in your good hands again."

"There's no need to be so formal. I'm not that particular," Yifan chides, though there's no heat in his words. Jongin straightens himself with a grin, then excuses himself off to change.

Jongin returns shortly after with confidence in his gait, this time dressed in a crisp black button-down shirt and slacks, his ebony hair slicked back. He's the epitome of a rich _chaebol_ heir, which is probably what CK is gunning for with their latest range of classic solid-coloured shirts and generally professional looks. The creative director for their shoot swoops into the studio moments later, whispering instructions in Jongin's ear, and Yifan stares, a little mesmerised by the intensity in Jongin's gaze as he listens intently to the explanation of the concept for their shoot that afternoon. 

Again, Yifan feels as though Jongin has turned into a completely different person—Kai?—once he takes his place on the leather chair placed in the centre of the room. He exudes charisma and oozes sex appeal when he leans forward with his elbows resting on his knees, fingers intertwined beneath his chin as he looks at the camera, gaze smouldering hot. There's a collective intake of breaths from the other staffs at the sight, but they hold their tongues, not wanting to spoil the moment by distracting Jongin with their noise.

Instinctively, Yifan starts clicking away, knowing it's the shot they're all looking for. Jongin's already changing up his position soon after, slender fingers on his plump lips, neck upturned as he engages the camera lens once again, and Yifan goes close enough to the armchair, wanting to get an angled shot of Jongin's long torso. And Jongin _gets_ it, stretching his body just a bit more to properly model the clothes on him, without losing the strength in the angle of his jaw or the intensity of his gaze. 

Yifan is left winded, exhilarated, _inspired_ , and they're only on Jongin's first set of outfits. 

They maintain a steady rhythm thereafter, Jongin giving one new pose after the other with each click of the shutter, and it keeps things fresh on the set. There is grace even in the way that Jongin walks, heels off the ground as he paces around the room on his toes, and it definitely makes his legs look longer than they already are. Yifan is awed by the range of expressions Jongin is capable of showing, features strong on one moment and soft in the next, and he doesn't even have to tell Jongin what to do. 

Everything seems to come naturally, and Jongin is as relaxed as he can be. Even if he feels strained by the long hours spent on set, it doesn't show on the photos, and Yifan respects his level of professionalism, despite being a rookie in the modelling world. Judging by the way the creative director is exclaiming "Excellent!" every now and then as he monitors the photoshoot from the workstation, they're definitely scoring a number of good shots, too. It makes Yifan strive hard to get even better frames of Jongin—to do the model due justice, of course. 

Yifan can't help but wonder if there's an outfit Jongin can't ever carry off well, when they arrive at the final set of clothes for the day. It's a suit of aqua, an unusual enough colour for formal wear, and would definitely make heads turn on the street—much too gaudy for a boardroom meeting, in fact—but the colour tone looks stunning on Jongin. He decides that the way Jongin has a foot braced against the wall as he glances up appears amazing enough, and Yifan quickly snaps it with his camera, capturing the best shot for the last set of photos. 

The shoot wraps up all too soon, much to Yifan's disappointment. He hasn't felt this invigorated by photographing someone in such a long while, and he's rather glad that he's finally found his muse again. 

In fact, Yifan actually has the urge to do a photo exhibition featuring Jongin, though this time, he intends to bring Jongin out of the cramped up studios and do the shoot outdoors instead. Jongin would look good, surrounded by beautiful landscapes and the liveliness on the streets. 

Nevertheless, Yifan keeps these thoughts to himself, because it's probably much too soon to be proposing something of such an extent to a man he barely even knew. The apprehension which has been plaguing him since forever is still there, and Yifan doesn't think he'll get over it any time soon. 

It doesn't stop him from imagining it, though.

★ ★ ★

By the third time Yifan gets to work with Jongin, he wonders if there's a mystical force at work behind all this. He doesn't think he can attribute any of it to pure coincidence, considering the amount of photographers and models that the Korean fashion industry has, and the chances of any one photographer getting to work repeatedly with the same model is actually extremely slim.

But Yifan will gladly take whatever comes his way, because every job opens up a brand new window of opportunity for him. Besides, having to deal with a different model each time meant giving him a headache, because he needs time to warm up to the models whenever he shoots them, resulting in more than a few unsatisfactory shots as he tries to grasp their best angles. 

Yifan doesn't face that sort of problem with Jongin, however. He's already more than familiar with the way Jongin poses in front of the camera by now, yet he's still excited to work with the man because Jongin never fails to bring something fresh to the table. He's not sure if Jongin does everything consciously—if he does, then he's doing a great job at not letting it show; if he's not, then Jongin was born to be in this profession—but it helps that he looks natural enough in front of the camera lens. Yifan has met a large number of rookie models who can never seem to get comfortable enough when he starts capturing them through his lens, resulting in largely dissatisfying shooting sessions. He really can't count the number of times he's had to storm off in frustration in the past, when the models can't seem to take his and the creative director's instructions at all, for the sake of calming himself down before he yelled at the entire room. 

And as always, Jongin gives off the impression that he is two completely different persons on set and off it. The moment he steps away from the camera lens, he'd revert to his shy self as he approaches Yifan to ask how he had done for the shoot. There is absolutely no trace of the confidence he exudes when he's in front of the lens, no come-hither stares or sensual lip bites or provocative poses. 

It's fascinating, really, and for the first time in a long while, Yifan actually looks forward to getting to know someone better. He's not sure if he misses this feeling, but he's not exactly averse to it—yet. 

Then again, when Jongin suddenly asks Yifan if he's willing to grab dinner with Jongin some time, Yifan blurts out a 'yes' a little too quickly, and they end up staring at each other in complete bewilderment. Jongin probably hadn't meant to speak his thoughts aloud, because he flushes a pretty shade of pink when he realises what he had just asked Yifan, hand clamped against his mouth and eyes wide. Yifan, on the other hand, hadn't wanted to agree so readily—he's rejected more invitations to dinner than he can count, unless the rest of his studio is there with him, for reasons he'd like to keep to himself—but it's not as though he can take his words back now, when Jongin heard him loud and clear. 

"There's no need—" Jongin quickly says, though he trips all over his words and makes an embarrassed whine before trying again. It's adorable, but no one's going to hear _that_ confession from Yifan. Ever. "I mean—you don't have to feel obliged to agree. I got ahead of myself and thought you might want to celebrate our successful collaborations so far—"

"Jongin," Yifan interrupts him good-naturedly, trying to flash the sincerest smile he can muster. He knows how intimidating he is in the eyes of others, after all. "I meant what I said. A celebration is long due." 

"Really?" Jongin asks, again lighting up. His expressions are a mix of disbelief and pure elatedness. 

"Really," Yifan nods, and immediately asks for Jongin's number so that they can stay in touch through their busy schedules.

Jongin finally leaves the photography studio once he's saved his number on Yifan's phone, bowing profusely at the rest of the staff members in gratitude for their hard work, his manager hot on his tail, already informing Jongin about his next round of schedules. Yifan watches as he goes, feeling a little sorry when he sees the way Jongin's broad shoulders sag from the pressure. It's the price he has to pay for his new-found fame, though, and his management agency is probably going to work him to the ground to maximise their profit.

Kevin, Yifan's most trusted assistant, is in turn watching Yifan with his eyebrows raised when Yifan turns back to his workstation. Yifan can feel himself growing flustered at the scrutiny, and he growls in annoyance at his friend.

" _What_?" He asks sharply, though it only encourages Kevin to grin even wider at him, almost Cheshire Cat in proportions. 

"Someone's finally got a date," Kevin points out, smirking smugly when Yifan makes a string of garbled noise. Kevin, of all people, should know that Yifan doesn't _do_ this dating business, especially with someone who is from the same industry. He's had a terrible experience once, and has never made an active effort to look for a companion since.

The thing about the entertainment industry is that you can never be overly trusting of someone. Almost everyone has a hidden agenda up their sleeves, some cunning enough to conceal their true intentions to the very end. You'd end up getting betrayed and getting hurt by someone else's actions, and Yifan doesn't think it's something worth experiencing for the sake of something as fleeting as _feelings_.

"Don't be crazy, Kevin. It's nothing of that sort," Yifan retorts, fingers already clicking away at his mouse as he begins the editing process, decidedly avoiding Kevin's penetrating gaze. 

Kevin merely snorts. "Sure, keep telling yourself that. Maybe it'll come true some day," is all that he says, though thankfully, he leaves the matter at that. 

Then again, the damage is already done, and Yifan can't quite concentrate for the rest of the day, his mind continuously reminding him of Kevin's words and the hidden implication behind them. It's annoying.

★ ★ ★

Yifan hates Kevin. Yifan hates Yixing even more.

But above all, Yifan thinks he hates himself the most, as he stares at the mess that is himself reflected in the mirror. 

Unsurprisingly, Kevin had immediately texted Yixing about Yifan's _date_ (Yifan absolutely refuses to call his celebratory dinner with Jongin that) because Kevin is an asshole, and all hell broke loose. Yixing wouldn't stop bugging him about the mysterious date until Yifan showed him a shot of Jongin, and he had replied with an entire wall of smirking emojis. Whatever that means. 

On the day where Yifan is supposed to meet Jongin, Yixing even invites himself into Yifan's apartment, pushing past Yifan with a large grin on his face the moment Yifan answers the door. Yifan doesn't think Yixing even hears Yifan calling after him, and he gives up soon enough when his bedroom is infiltrated, with Yixing taking over his bed and laying spread eagle on the sheets as though he owns the place. 

Yifan had been on the verge of a mental breakdown before Yixing had arrived, unable to decide on his outfit for the evening. He doesn't even know why he's so stressed out over having dinner with Jongin, when it's supposed to be a simple gathering to celebrate their successful collaborations, nothing more. They're not even meeting at a classy restaurant, just a casual dinner at a simple eatery in Hongdae. Still, he finds the need to dress well for it, instead of throwing on a simple sweater and slacks like he does for work, to show his respect for Jongin. 

It probably doesn't take much for Yixing to know that though, because Yifan has clothes strewn over every imaginable surface of his room, with another pile laying innocently on the floor next to his wardrobe. He wishes he can wipe off that infuriating smirk from Yixing's face. Why is he even friends with Yixing again?

"Because you _dated_ me in the past, idiot," Yixing replies just then, which makes Yifan realise that he had spoken his thoughts aloud. Again. "You're a mess. I'm glad we broke up."

He groans and slides to the floor in despair at Yixing's words. Yixing is the reincarnation of the devil, and no one can convince Yifan otherwise. "I hate my life. Why did I even agree to that dinner meeting in the first place?"

"It's not so bad, is it?" Yixing comments, the playful side of him gone without a trace, and his tone and expressions soften just a little to show his sympathy. "You're just out of touch with this dating thing."

"Except it's _not_ a date. How many times must I tell you that?" Yifan insists, though it doesn't seem as though Yixing is any closer to believing him. 

"Whatever," he brushes Yifan off, already pulling himself to stand. Yifan watches as he walks towards Yifan's wardrobe, surveying the choices available with a frown etched on his forehead. In the end, he pulls a muted red tartan shirt off its hanger and tosses it at Yifan, followed by a pair of slim-fit black jeans. "Put those on, and you can thank me later."

Yifan rolls his eyes at Yixing, but complies nonetheless, retreating to the ensuite bathroom to get changed since Yixing refuses to budge from Yifan's bed. He thinks he hears Yixing mumbling something along the lines of Yifan being a prude even though Yixing has already seen him naked more than once, but he decidedly ignores it. It's best not to cross the boundaries of simple friendship again, when feelings between them have changed so drastically. It hadn't been easy for them to get out of that post-breakup phase in the first place. 

Yixing lets out a low whistle of appreciation when Yifan finally steps out of the bathroom, beaming at his handiwork. A pair of brown suede Chelsea boots have been laid out by the door, and Yifan puts them on too, along with his black overcoat hanging from the rack. He would probably sound vain if he ever said this out loud, but he looks _good_.

Yifan has to admit this, though—Yixing has a good eye for clothes, and he's somewhat glad Yixing had come to his rescue even though Yifan hadn't explicitly asked him to. 

"Damn. When will I never be envious of your supermodel build?" Yixing sighs, though he laughs when Yifan tries to swat at him. Yifan _knows_ he's tall enough to be a model, but his movements are still gangly and graceless sometimes, almost as though he never grew out of his prepubescent awkwardness. He doesn't really like attracting unwanted attention, either, which is the reason why he always hides his face behind large framed glasses, despite the fact that he can see perfectly well without them. 

"Shut up, Yixing. None of that from you—" he retorts, though the shrill sound of his message tone cuts him off. Yixing manages to get to Yifan's phone before he does, and he waggles his eyebrows suggestively when he sees Jongin's name displayed on the lock screen, along with a cheerful message saying _see you in a bit!_

With much difficulty, Yifan manages to snatch his phone back from Yixing's evil clutches, and he quickly shoots a reply to Jongin before putting the device away in his coat pocket, safely out of Yixing's reach. "I have to go. Are you still going to stick around, or do you want to head downstairs with me?" 

"Yeah, I guess I'll stay for a bit," Yixing yawns. "Gotta raid your fridge for food first before I leave." 

Of course. Yixing is always busy juggling his performance schedules at several different bars, and never has time to do proper grocery shopping until his own fridge has been completely emptied out. Yifan doesn't mind, though. He'd rather not have his friend starve himself to death, if Yifan could do anything about it. 

"Fine, I'll let you off the hook just this once, since you helped with picking out my outfit tonight," Yifan says in lieu of a joke, and it's his turn to laugh when Yixing scowls at him as Yifan turns to leave. "Let yourself out later. The spare key's in the usual place. I'll get it from you the next time I see you." 

"Bye," Yixing hops off the bed and sees him out the door, a reminiscent of their past selves. This time, though, the sight doesn't quite leave a bitter feeling in his chest. Perhaps Yifan has already moved on without him realising it. "Make sure you get laid by the end of the night, or I'm disowning you." 

Yifan flips the bird at Yixing over his shoulder, though he smiles to himself when Yixing's mad cackling carries down the corridor. Some things will never change.

★ ★ ★

In the short span of a couple of hours, Yifan learns a great deal more about Kim Jongin than he has about anyone else, apart from Yixing. This includes the fact that Jongin is only a mere four years younger than he is, which effectively places Jongin at the age of twenty-three, instead of the post-adolescence phase Yifan had initially thought he was in. He's a boy with huge dreams, but not nearly enough confidence just yet in making them a reality, still humbled by everything that's happening in his life, still amazed by how smoothly everything is going. It's not until Yifan had reassured him multiple times, over the night, that he was doing absolutely well did Jongin finally accept it with a smile and a shy duck of his head.

They had both decided to dine at an underground restaurant selling chicken and beer in Hongdae that evening—you can _never_ go wrong with that combination—hidden away in a private cubicle as the wide array of K-Pop songs playing at Etude House above them filter down the stairs. Yifan has never seen anyone demolish a plate of chicken this quickly in his life before, but yet here Jongin is, proving his world views wrong all over again. As far as Yifan remembers, most models are extremely conscious about what they eat, in order to maintain their physical figures and to do well during fittings with various clothing labels. Eating something as oily as chicken fried in soy sauce and garlic and honey would be heavily frowned upon, though it doesn't seem to be the case with Jongin. 

He realises he might've been staring a little too openly—a little too in awe—at his dining partner, when Jongin pauses in the middle of chewing on a drumstick and looks up at Yifan. Jongin looks like a child who has been caught with a hand down the cookie jar, nothing like the charismatic young man he sees during photoshoots, and Yifan presses his lips into a thin line, trying hard not to burst out laughing. And, as always, he finds the sight endearing. 

"Is there something wrong?" Jongin asks once he has swallowed the piece of meat in his mouth and washed it down with a swig of beer. Yifan notices how he's fidgeting a little, teeth worrying on his bottom lip, and he wonders if Jongin is suffering from a lack of self-confidence. It does seem so, when he thinks back on the times when Jongin would look extremely unsure as he browses through his shots with Yifan, only to relax considerably once Yifan praises him for the good work. 

Yifan _gets_ it, though. Validation is something everyone craves, consciously or not. 

"Nothing," Yifan chuckles, glancing down at their third plate of chicken which Jongin is almost three-quarters done with. "You eat well." 

The way Jongin turns beet red from embarrassment is hilarious, though Yifan thinks he might be _a little_ weak for the way Jongin is currently pouting at him in protest. "I like chicken, and I've just been released from my strict diet. Cut me some slack." 

Yifan raises his hands in a placating gesture, laughing. "Hey, I'm not saying it's a bad thing. I just find it surprising, that's all. You ate quite a bit tonight." 

"Proteins are needed for body-building. Some labels want me to bare my toned body for their underwear advertisements," Jongin defends himself seriously, though there's a teasing glint in his eyes. Yifan barely stops himself from staring right into them, and his hand quickly finds his glass of beer, the condensation sticking to his already sweaty palm as he picks it up and drains the last of its contents to distract himself. His brain is already short-circuiting from the unnecessary images of Jongin's bare skin, and the room suddenly feels much too warm. 

Jongin's still looking at him when Yifan finally lowers his glass, gaze intense, though he glances away almost immediately when he realises Yifan's meeting his eyes. There's a brilliant red flush creeping all the way up from Jongin's chest to the tips of his ears by now, but Yifan stops short of teasing him for it, not wanting to make the situation even more awkward than it already is. 

Instead, Yifan clears his throat and calls for the waitress to refill their glasses, before changing the subject at hand. "Thanks for being such a great model to work with, by the way. I wouldn't have gotten such great shots if I hadn't felt comfortable working with you." 

"You're exaggerating," Jongin laughs shyly, again wringing his hands beneath the table. Yifan perceives it as Jongin being nervous. "I should be the one thanking you instead, for having so much patience while dealing with a newbie like me." 

"Hey," Yifan chastises, "I'm practically a nobody too. The least I could do was to make sure we both survive this harsh industry, right? Turns out we make a great combination after all."

The amount of alcohol he's had in the last two hours is probably screwing with his senses, but Yifan isn't sure if he's imagining the way Jongin's cheeks turn a pretty pink at his comment. He isn't given the opportunity to dwell upon it, though, when the waitress comes back with their freshly refilled mugs of beer. 

Jongin immediately reaches for his once the waitress leaves them alone, and raises it before him. "Well, we're not exactly nobodies anymore—" he says, probably referring to the way they've been stopped multiple times on their way to the restaurant by people who recognise them for autographs—more on Jongin's part than Yifan, really, but it's okay. "—so cheers for more future collaborations and continuous success for the both of us."

It sounds great to Yifan's ears, and he grins as he raises his mug too. "Cheers to that."

★ ★ ★

_I see you've found yourself a new muse,_ a nameless number sends Yifan a text message one fine day, between his third and fifth assignment together with Jongin. _He's a pretty thing. Actively fucking him yet?_

Then again, Yifan _recognises_ the number, knows who exactly had sent him that crude message even though he's deleted it off his contacts years ago. He's only surprised that the man hasn't moved on to a new number, even after fame has made a slave of him. It's not Yifan's problem, though; he's vowed long ago that he will not have anything to do with this man ever again.

Gritting his teeth, he deletes the message without even replying to it. He doesn't have the time nor the energy to get angry at people who don't deserve his attention right now.

★ ★ ★

The meetings between Yifan and Jongin become more frequent over the next few weeks after their initial celebratory dinner.

It's not entirely intentional on Yifan's part, though. It seemed only normal to progress from frequent text messages exchanged between them—more on Jongin's part than Yifan, because the younger man can be easily excitable, and he leads a far more interesting life than Yifan does—to actually meeting up over coffee. Yifan doesn't really put much thought into it, despite Yixing and Kevin's constant nudging and knowing looks whenever they realise Yifan's in contact with Jongin. His so-called friends can be overly dramatic sometimes, even though they may mean well. 

Besides, spending time with Jongin is enjoyable enough. He doesn't mind the company, since Yixing's always so busy with his gigs and trying to land a recording deal to actually give Yifan much of his time, and Yifan doesn't have that many friends outside of work, either.

This day is no different, though Jongin is graceful enough to let Yifan work on editing photos from a recent photoshoot over a drink. The deadline is fast approaching, and Yifan needed to get his ass out of his apartment unit before the enclosed space drives him insane. Even when Yifan had warned him over the phone that he was going to be neglected most of the time, Jongin was still eager enough to meet up with Yifan at their usual café, reassuring Yifan that he needed some fresh air away from the cramped studios too. 

Jongin is the epitome of a curious child that afternoon, eyes wide as he watches on with interest while Yifan works his Photoshop magic on his shots. To be honest, however, the model he had shot the other day is photogenic enough, and it makes Yifan's job that much easier. Only minimal tweaks were needed to perfect the shots, and it's not too difficult for Jongin to follow as Yifan explains how each function works every now and then. Jongin even tries his hand at editing some of the photos when Yifan offers, though he fails miserably at making it look professional, picking weird-looking filters which leaves Yifan in stitches when Jongin presents his completed piece. They look decent enough to be a part of an aesthetic Instagram feed, but it's definitely not magazine material. 

In the end, they both agree that Jongin should just stay in front of the camera lens, not behind it. It suits Jongin a whole lot better, anyway. Yifan promises to offer Jongin free tutoring in the future, when he has more time on his hands—he'll make time for Jongin if he has to, between future works and his personal life, but no one needs to know that. Jongin is very much an integral part of Yifan's non-working life anyway, his text messages and random photos brightening up Yifan's day.

Yifan tries not to think about the fact that he usually _never_ allows anyone to watch him while he's editing his shots, or to get anywhere near his stash of photographs before he slaps a watermark on them.

★ ★ ★

"Have you ever thought about becoming a model?"

Out of surprise, Yifan trips on his own feet while browsing through the clothing rack for another outfit. He _would_ have gotten himself a mouthful of carpet, if Jongin hadn't yanked on the back of his shirt and pulled him upright just in the nick of time. Yifan finds it difficult to be grateful to the person who had caused him to trip in the first place, though, so he opts to send Jongin a withering look instead when Jongin grins at him sheepishly. 

Yifan thinks it's definitely desperation speaking when he asked Jongin to accompany him on a shopping trip—Yixing's busy as usual, and Kevin's a traitor—although he doesn't begrudge the company. Jongin dresses rather well, from the few times Yifan has seen him out of the clothes the stylists have put on him, and he believes Jongin might be able to offer him decent advice on picking his outfits.

There is an award ceremony coming up in a month's time, held in acknowledgement of the up-and-coming stars of the modelling industry, and both Yifan and Jongin have been invited to attend it. Unfortunately, Yifan has nothing to wear to the ceremony, considering the fact that his wardrobe is stuffed to the brim with clothes that are _actually_ comfortable enough for him to work in, and they mostly consist of jeans and sweaters and simple shirts. He's never had the need for formal wear, though it seems like that's all about to change, with the sudden surge of his popularity amongst local designers and foreign labels seeking to break into the Korean market alike. 

It does feel like he's crossing an imaginary line in their several-months-long friendship, but Jongin doesn't seem to mind, and Yifan doesn't dwell on it either. 

"No," Yifan says seriously, because _him_? Actually becoming a model? Jongin must be kidding. 

"Why not?" Jongin asks, taken aback, and Yifan realises belatedly that he'd spoken aloud _again_. He really needs to work on that faulty brain-mouth filter of his to save himself from future embarrassment. "You already have the looks, the proportions, and the _height_ —" the younger man appraises Yifan from top to toe to make his point, and Yifan feels incredibly self-conscious that he actually wants to hide from the attention. "—so with some training, you'd be walking on a runway in no time." 

Yifan isn't oblivious of the way the sales assistants following them around the shop are nodding in agreement at Jongin's words, and he frowns a little. It's not as though no one has ever asked him the question before, but between hiding behind his large glasses and his new-found reflex to shy away from the limelight whenever possible, he doesn't think he's fit for such a glitzy career. Besides, photography has always been his first love. Yifan doesn't think he'll ever be able to distance himself from a DSLR; doesn't think he even _wants_ to. 

"It's not my world," Yifan says simply as he picks out a new suit from the rack, a chequered grey three-piece set tailored out of fine quality wool. Jongin takes one look at Yifan's choice and makes a face—it's a clear 'no', then. "I enjoy living behind the scenes, not on it." 

"It's not so bad. You could probably be as famous as Godfrey Gao outside of Asia, you know," Jongin comments thoughtfully, though his attention is focused on searching for something which would fit Yifan better, oblivious to the way Yifan had tensed up at the mention of the name. His eyes light up when he spots a simple navy blue suit, pushing it into Yifan's large hands before skipping to the centre panel and picking out a red silk tie to go with it. Yifan complies wordlessly when Jongin urges him to put it on, though he secretly likes the simplicity of the outfit, too. 

When Yifan finally steps out of the changing room in his new outfit, there is a sharp intake of breaths in the shop, and everyone's gaze is immediately upon him, their expressions a mixture of awe and surprise. Even Jongin's jaw is hanging wide open, though the pride is written all over his face as he looks at Yifan. 

"You should _definitely_ take on my suggestion and be a model instead of a photographer," Jongin tells him as he snaps a photo of Yifan with his phone, tone adamant. 

Yifan only rolls his eyes at Jongin in response—jokingly, of course—before quickly changing out of the suit so that he could pay for it. It already feels too stifling, with the amount of attention he's attracting while in it. Yifan tries telling himself that he's not buying it because Jongin likes seeing him in it. 

 

(He realises much, much later, when he's already home and freshly showered, that the little brat called Kim Jongin had actually uploaded the shot of Yifan on his Instagram. _A friend who refuses to believe that he looks like a model_ , the caption reads, followed by a slew of hashtags, including one which says _#convincehimotherwise_. Yifan's username is even tagged on the photo, and he's subsequently flooded with tons of followers' requests which he ignores instead of deletes, because there's just too many for him to go through individually.

Then again, he finds that he can't get angry at Jongin, and it's _odd_ , considering how he doesn't like receiving such publicity without his prior consent.

In the end, Yifan sends an exasperated-looking emoji to Jongin, and receives one that's laughing to the point of tears in return. Brat.)

★ ★ ★

His effort at keeping his brain-mouth filter intact is clearly futile, when Yifan makes the exact same mistake—on _stage_ , no less.

The next mishap happens while Yifan is on stage receiving his award, which was presented to him in acknowledgement of his shots in various magazine spreads for a number of designer labels. The emcee had asked him for his thoughts on collaborating multiple times with Jongin, after Yifan was done thanking his staff and those who believed in him enough to let him present their label to the Korean design world through his photos.

Without thinking, Yifan had smiled and said that he thought of Jongin— _Kai_ —as a living, breathing piece of art, because of his ability to present varying facial expressions and poses without being prompted to do so by the photographer or the creative director. Yifan even went as far as to comment that he'd like to do a solo photo exhibition featuring Jongin in the future, if Jongin was agreeable to it.

It's not a lie to appease the media, though—Yifan _does_ want to photograph Jongin for non-work-related purposes, but this isn't the way he'd wanted to put his desires across, not before such a large audience. Needless to say, the crowd erupted into loud cheers when the video camera pans towards Jongin, who nods and laughs shyly in response to Yifan's request. 

The magnitude of the request didn't fully hit Yifan until he descended from the stage and felt the tips of his ears burning from embarrassment. The impact is doubled when he finds his words printed all over the entertainment section of several newspapers on the very next day, all shown to him courtesy of Kevin who literally attaches a wall of smirking emojis with his message. 

Then again, there's a Chinese idiom which states that what has already been said cannot be unsaid. Yifan doesn't intend to go against his words, either, so he sets up a time to do the shoot with Jongin. Jongin is only too happy to comply, despite his busy schedules and increasing frequency of travelling overseas for work-related purposes. 

It's the reason why Yifan finds himself in a dance studio on a chilly Saturday afternoon in autumn, under Jongin's request, because Yifan had wanted to shoot Jongin in his natural element—and that meant capturing Jongin in motion on the dance floor. Modelling isn't what Jongin had set out to do in his life from the very beginning, after all. Yifan had learned of that detail from Jongin several conversations into their close friendship, but has never had the opportunity to witness Jongin dancing with his very own eyes. 

The anticipation builds when Jongin finally walks into the room, dressed handsomely in a simple black button-down shirt and slacks. There's already a thin sheen of sweat coating his skin, his bangs sticking to his forehead, and Jongin grins in greeting as he pushes his hair out of his face. 

Yifan kind of wants to die; Jongin is much too attractive for his own good, and Yifan isn't sure if he's even aware of it. Either way, now that Yifan knows that he's sort of attracted to the man in front of him, it doesn't bode well for him at all.

"Sorry to keep you waiting. I was off doing some warm-ups before the session," Jongin explains, still doing some back stretches as he talks to Yifan.

He tries not to stare at the way Jongin's shirt pulls taut across the muscles of his chest, or at the definition of his abdominal muscles beneath the fabric. Yifan is thankful that he had decided to do this shoot for his exhibition on his own, including setting up all the necessary equipments. He can't imagine having Kevin smirking knowingly at him throughout the photoshoot. It would definitely be uncomfortable, to say the least.

Yifan also kind of relishes the time he gets to be alone with Jongin, in a world of their own, but he doesn't say this aloud.

"It's fine," Yifan says instead, smiling reassuringly at Jongin. "I needed some time to set up the equipment anyway, so you're right on schedule."

"That's great," Jongin beams, and despite the traces of dark circles beneath his eyes, telling Yifan about the busy week he's had, the man seems absolutely happy to be there. For that, Yifan is glad. 

"So, what do you have for me today?" 

"Two songs," Jongin gestures with his fingers, already scrolling through his phone's playlist for the music he needs. "I can dance to them repeatedly until you get the shots you require."

Yifan pauses to consider Jongin's words for a moment, before suggesting something else instead. "Why don't you show me both dances first? It's easier for me to determine which angles would be the best to capture your choreography on film." After all, photographing a person in motion requires lots of patience and precision, and he'd loathe to tire Jongin out needlessly. Planning his shots in advance would be a more feasible option. 

Besides, Yifan is eager to watch the dance as a whole. Having to photograph Jongin doing the choreography would mean that Yifan would be focused on getting the best shots, and he'd miss the opportunity to see for himself what exactly Jongin is capable of doing. It's probably a once in a lifetime opportunity, and there's no way in hell Yifan is going to let that chance slip through his fingers. 

Needless to say, when Jongin starts his private performance for Yifan, Yifan finally realises why Jongin is so capable at showing a wide array of emotions during his photoshoots. The song Jongin is currently dancing to is an emotional ballad, which starts off with the melancholic sounds of a piano. Jongin's fingers move along with each note, playing a sorrowful melody in the air. The passion is clearly reflected in Jongin's brown irises, his expressions matching the lyrics of the song perfectly, each line his body makes beautiful and breathtaking in its own way. 

Yifan is so completely enraptured by Jongin's performance, to the point where he doesn't even realise that the music has stopped filling the dance studio—not until Jongin comes up to him and waves a hand in front of Yifan's eyes. He inhales sharply, half from confusion and half in surprise, nearly dropping the camera in his hands in the process. It's a good thing Jongin has amazing reflexes and manages to catch Yifan's camera by its strap before it hits the ground, and he's laughing when he returns the camera to Yifan. 

"Careful there. I don't want to be held responsible for breaking your expensive equipments," Jongin teases. Yifan thinks it's amazing, how Jongin has managed to shake off his shy demeanour around Yifan, though he's not sure if he should be glad to be on the receiving end of Jongin's mischievous smiles and endless teasing. His heart might not be strong enough for this—it's already racing rapidly from the close proximity between them, and the broad smile Jongin is wearing on his plump lips. 

"That was... _beautiful_ ," Yifan says instead, not knowing how to respond to Jongin's previous comment. He's still reeling from the effect of Jongin's brief dance performance, and he thinks he might be able to see Jongin's intricate dance all over again when he closes his eyes. He swallows hard, hoping that he doesn't say something stupid. "Why did you pursue a career in modelling, if you can dance this well? You could have easily made a name for yourself in the entertainment scene."

Jongin averts his gaze, suddenly looking small and unsure. He's chewing on his lower lip again, a clear sign that he's nervous. His hand moves to wipe the sweat off the column of his neck, and Yifan can't help but follow the movement. "I... _can't_. I sustained a bad waist injury a couple of years ago, because I was much too reckless. The doctors told me that if I wanted to walk again, I would have to stop dancing for good." 

Yifan's heart sinks to the pit of his stomach when the reality of Jongin's words settles in. At such a young age, Jongin has been faced with the possibility of losing his mobility for the rest of his life because of something he's passionate over. It would explain why he seems so resilient and mature for his age, though, and Yifan gains a new-found respect for the man standing before him. That is, of course, before something else strikes him— " _Wait_. If your waist injury is so debilitating, _why_ did you agree to do this photoshoot with me? Are you insane?" 

Right now, the way Jongin's muscles would freeze in place from time to time while changing positions during a photoshoot suddenly makes sense. The discomfort is well-concealed, but Yifan realises it regardless, because his own index finger would refrain from clicking the shutter button whenever Jongin pauses. He'd meant to ask Jongin about it before, but Yifan didn't think they were close enough to warrant questions on such a personal level back then. The matter had slipped from his mind completely—until today, that is. 

"Relax," Jongin chuckles. "I've gone through surgery and lots of physiotherapy since then. The pain bothers me on the occasion, but the doctors have given me the green light to indulge myself once in a while. I just can't dance consistently, of course, and I know my limits now. Don't worry about it."

Yifan raises an eyebrow at Jongin, a little disbelieving. By now, Yifan knows how Jongin would rather suffer in silence than letting others know that he's hurting. He stops short of wishing Jongin would trust him more to let him know of these instances, though; Yifan isn't exactly very open about himself to begin with. It would be unfair to expect that amount of faith coming from someone else. "Are you sure? We can shoot something else for the exhibition, you know. I really don't mind—"

" _Yifan_ —" Jongin cuts him off with an exasperated smile, and his hand is warm on Yifan's forearm. "I'll be fine. I will let you know if the pain is bothering me. I _want_ to do this." 

In the end, Yifan relents with a defeated sigh. He never really could resist Jongin's requests to begin with, and he thinks it's becoming a great problem for him. "I'll hold you to that promise. Come on, let's see your second piece." 

The regret that bubbles within his chest at the sudden loss of Jongin's warmth is a little difficult to ignore, but Yifan manages it regardless when the music fills the studio once again. This time, Jongin has chosen an R&B song which Yifan recognises to be EXO's My Lady. As always, Jongin comes out of his own shell and assumes the image of Kai, ever so confident, ever so sensual when he starts his dance routine. His moves are sharper than the previous song, each roll of his shoulder and thrust of his hips precise and alluring, and it's really, really amazing how Jongin can dance like that while keeping his facial expressions in tune with the lyrics of the song.

To make matters worse for Yifan, Jongin is holding Yifan's gaze throughout his dance routine, almost as though he's dedicating the dance to Yifan. Yifan doesn't know for sure, though. It could be Jongin's way of engaging his audience, even if Yifan is the only one in the room with him. He doesn't even know if Jongin likes men like Yifan does; he's never felt the urge to ask Jongin about his sexual orientation. It would be terrible for him to assume, even if Jongin _does_ tend to be clingy with Yifan whenever they're alone, or when no one's looking in their direction. 

Yifan has to shift his weight a little to hide the growing bulge in his pants brought on by Jongin's sensual moves, and he fervently hopes that Jongin doesn't notice it. It would make things so incredibly awkward between them, and Yifan isn't sure if he wants that to happen—not before he ascertains how Jongin feels about him. 

By the time Jongin completes his dance routine, Yifan is even more mesmerised by him. He wasn't wrong when he had likened Jongin to a work of art, because that's exactly what Jongin is. Every line of his body, every movement of his contributes to weaving a beautiful story out of simple melodies, and Yifan can't think of anyone else who's capable enough of doing that in the entertainment industry. Perhaps he might find other people like Jongin in famous dance schools and renowned theatres, but Yifan is completely content in photographing Jongin for now. 

Kai is gone the moment the music stops, leaving behind a still-shy Jongin who giggles breathlessly as he makes his way towards the end of the studio where Yifan is leaning against the glass windows. This time, however, Jongin's the one who trips on his own feet, stumbling towards the ground when he loses his balance. Yifan's feet are already on autopilot when he sees the incident unfold, dashing the rest of the distance towards Jongin. It's a good thing his legs are long enough to cover a great distance, especially with his background as a basketball player, and for once Yifan's thankful he had the sense to leave his camera on the table before watching Jongin dance. 

He heaves a sigh of relief when he manages to catch Jongin by the arm in the nick of time, thereby preventing Jongin from hurting himself. When he looks up, he realises just how close their faces are from each other. Every detail on Jongin's face—from the healing acne scars, to the gentle slope of his nose, to the bow of his plump lips—could be seen from the lack of distance, and Yifan could probably kiss Jongin on the lips if he leaned in just a little more—

Yifan abruptly halts his thoughts right there. "Be careful," he says quietly, and he clears his throat when his voice sounds funny to his own ears. "Your manager will have my head if you ever get injured." 

Nevertheless, it doesn't seem as though Jongin has any thoughts of pulling away. He's almost limp in Yifan's grip, eyes a little glossed over from his accident. Yifan tries not to follow the movement of Jongin's tongue when it darts out to wet his lips, but he thinks he's failing miserably in that aspect when the desire to kiss Jongin grows stronger. He _should_ pull away, but Yifan finds that he _can't_. 

"Do you think I'd push all the blame on you?" Jongin asks in response, his voice raspy. Yifan is not oblivious to the way Jongin's gaze is flickering between Yifan's eyes and lips, and he certainly can't ignore the way Jongin merely leans in closer, eyelids fluttering shut.

Yifan squeezes his eyes shut and pulls away before their lips can even touch, even as his heart fills with regret. He can't do this. Not now. Not today. Not before he sorts his feelings out.

He clears his throat to break the moment. "We better get back to the photoshoot. You have another schedule to attend to this evening, don't you?"

Jongin reels back at once and pulls himself to stand, picking at the lint on his dress shirt. "Yeah, we should. I'll start with the first choreography, then." 

Yifan nods quietly, and pretends not to notice the disappointment that flashes across Jongin's features when he turns around to get back to the middle of the room. He merely exhales under his breath, and picks up his camera once again.

 

(No one talks about that near-kiss ever again.)

★ ★ ★

Yixing and Kevin's incessant teasing is completely lost on him, the irritation and mortification overshadowed by his extreme anxiety and soaring stress levels as the day of his first solo exhibition looms. There are just too many things to think about, too many aspects to coordinate in order for his exhibition to run as smoothly as possible.

It doesn't help that he's talking to Jongin a lot less after their private photoshoot, owing to the fact that Jongin has been busy flying out of the country to attend to other work obligations. He doesn't even send samples of the shots he's gotten when Jongin asks, telling the other man over late e-mails that it's supposed to be a surprise. 

(Deep down, though, Yifan knows he's still deadly afraid his photos would be stolen. He's never really gotten over that bitter bit of his past. He doesn't tell anyone else this. Not even Jongin.)

Yifan only gets to breathe easier when he finally officiates his photo exhibition, glancing at the patrons around him as he lazily sips on his flute of champagne, one hand in his pocket. He has greeted everyone of importance on his guest list, and all that remains is for them to admire all the photos he's taken of Jongin. It's a little overwhelming, really, when he's surrounded by portrait upon portrait of the beautiful man, and he especially likes the ones where Jongin's staring right at the camera lens, almost as though Jongin's trying to communicate silently with him through his dance.

Yifan certainly hopes he's managed to capture that aspect of Jongin, and he hopes that Jongin's story could be conveyed to Yifan's audience through still pictures. 

Above all, though, Yifan feels a great sense of accomplishment when he sees the joy and wonderment on Jongin's face. He's been grinning from ear to ear ever since he's seen the photos Yifan had taken of him, being privileged enough to be the first to walk through the doors of the exhibition hall earlier. It's something Yifan had promised Jongin earlier, giving Jongin time to admire Yifan's handiwork before the peace and quiet is shattered by throngs of photography enthusiasts. He'd thanked Yifan profusely, gushing over how Yifan had presented the image of him dancing so brilliantly to the world, even though Yifan had reassured him time and again that Jongin is simply _that_ photogenic. 

Right now, as he watches Jongin blush as he receives praises from the guests of the photo exhibition, Yifan feels proud to have put that brilliant smile on his lips. It doesn't really matter if he doesn't achieve his targeted number of guests by the time the week draws to a close; Yifan truly wants Jongin to be happy, that's all. 

"Why, I'm offended that you'd forget to invite me to your inaugural photo exhibition, Kris. I thought we had something _special_ ," a deep voice suddenly speaks in his ear in crisp English, which is then followed by an arm snaking around his waist. Yifan jumps at the sound, trying to pull away from the unwanted touch and spilling some of his champagne in the process. The man who's now invading his personal space is having none of that, however, keeping his grip firm around Yifan's waist. 

Yifan's skin crawls with disgust. He hasn't heard of the voice in _years_ , and he really can't fathom why the man would even bother to show up today, of all days, unannounced. "What are you doing here? You were not invited, and you're not welcomed here," he hisses through clenched teeth, trying to put up a smile on the surface, though he doesn't turn around to regard the man. He might not be able to hold back from punching the man square in the face, if the rage ever consumes him, and it's definitely _not_ good publicity.

"My, my. You've grown feistier over the years, haven't you Kris? I remembered you as such a docile little thing." 

That's the last straw for Yifan. 

He turns around sharply, confronting the man for the first time since their unscheduled meeting began five minutes ago. Standing before him is a man whose face has graced countless magazines across the globe, and has been named the global ambassador for several different brands. The panic grows within Yifan when he notices how his guests are starting to recognise the man, and are busy speculating amongst themselves. Who _wouldn't_ recognise him, when he's the famous Godfrey Gao?

But that's where Yifan becomes conflicted. He doesn't want anyone else to know that he's even acquainted with Godfrey, let alone the fact that Yifan used to be _friendly_ with him, and he honestly wants to gag at the mere thought of it. Yifan and Godfrey were more than just acquaintances—they were _intimate_ , having fallen for each other along the way while they were still struggling to find their footing in a foreign land where no one else knows of them. It's not easy, trying to break into the Korean entertainment market, but they were contented enough to have each other.

Or so Yifan had thought. 

That was before Godfrey had betrayed Yifan's trust and disappeared from his life. Yifan had a pen drive filled with ambitious photoshoots he'd done with Godfrey, and they had planned to bring it to a modelling agency _together_ once they've established a decent enough portfolio to convince these agencies to hire them—Godfrey as a model, and Yifan as a photographer. But after bedding Yifan one night, Godfrey took advantage of the fact that Yifan was sound asleep from exhaustion and stole his thumb drive, presenting it to the top notch modelling agency in Korea and propelled himself to fame— _alone_. 

Yifan couldn't lay claim on those photos when he saw them published in a magazine, no matter how desperately he wanted to do so. There was nothing on those photos to indicate that Yifan had taken them, nothing for him to prove himself. To make things worse, Godfrey had even deleted the copies of these photos from Yifan's computer, leaving him with nothing at all. Godfrey hadn't looked back at him since, and Yifan had never really gotten over the betrayal until now. 

"You have no right to comment about how much I've changed, when you disappeared on me after betraying me, Godfrey," Yifan snarls. His body is trembling from the effort of not raising his voice, and _God_ , he feels his self-control slipping out of his fingers. "You have no right to be here from the moment you decided that I was someone you could use and toss aside without sparing a single thought." 

"Ouch," Godfrey says, feigning hurt by pressing a hand against his chest where his heart beats. "I'm offended that you'd think of me in such a light. Do you honestly think there were no feelings involved between us?" 

How _dare_ he bring up the subject on feelings. "You give me no reason to think otherwise, when you betrayed me so easily," Yifan responds. He absolutely refuses to provide Godfrey with the satisfaction that feelings _were_ indeed involved on Yifan's part. Godfrey has never been overtly affectionate, and it's one of the reasons why Yifan couldn't confidently say that the relationship between them was completely mutual. For all Yifan knew, Godfrey could have gotten into the relationship with Yifan for the sake of using him and his photography skills. 

An infuriating smirk spreads across Godfrey's lips as he takes another step forward, invading Yifan's personal space all over again. "What if I told you that you're wrong? That I did indeed lo—" 

"That is quite enough, Mr. Gao. I think it is fairly clear that you are not welcomed here." 

Someone steps in just then to interrupt their conversation, which Yifan is—and will be—eternally grateful for. Yifan smiles in gratitude when he turns to find Kibum and Yixing standing next to him, identical threatening looks on their faces. Godfrey may tower over them in terms of height, but their mere presence is enough to negate that fact. 

Godfrey's confident smile drops a little at the disrespect, but he tilts his head a little to regard Kibum and Yixing. "Oh? I didn't know you made new friends with an indie designer and a struggling musician." 

If Yixing was offended by his comment, he doesn't show it. Rather, he calmly takes a sip of his champagne and waves the security personnel over. 

"You have the option to remove yourself from this private function on your own accord, or I can have the security personnel throw you out, Mr. Gao. Take your pick," Yixing says this with a saccharine sweet smile that impresses Yifan greatly, because Yifan was always the one who defended Yixing, and not the other way round. Yifan feels somewhat proud of Yixing. 

Thankfully, Godfrey is smart enough to not kick up a fuss over Yixing's threat. His face appears flushed even beneath the dim lighting, evidently flustered and embarrassed that someone would stand up to him in such a manner, and his discomfort is obvious when the security personnel taps his shoulder twice in warning. When it doesn't seem as though Godfrey is any closer to leaving the venue, however, Yifan takes a step forward.

"I'm sure you heard Yixing, Godfrey. Don't make me repeat what he said," Yifan tells him sternly, silently challenging Godfrey to make a move. 

In the end, Godfrey's expression channels one of defeat, though it doesn't take long before he looks indignant at Yifan's words. "Well played, all of you. Mark my words; this won't be the last you will see of me," he seethes under his breath, quiet enough for the four of them to hear. He places his champagne flute on the tray of a waiter who's passing by with a loud clang, then turns on his heels to leave. 

Yifan finally relaxes once Godfrey is out of sight. He doesn't even realise that he'd tuned out everything else during his confrontation with Godfrey, until the din of his exhibition guests floods his senses, leaving behind a quiet but incessant ringing in his ears. He vaguely registers the way Kibum and Yixing pats him on the shoulder, telling him to stop letting that asshole walk all over him. Yifan only makes a non-committal sound, a little dazed by the encounter with Godfrey. He can't believe that his asshole of an ex still has such an effect on him, and Yifan is honestly angry at himself for not maintaining his poise while confronting Godfrey, even though he _should have_ gotten over the betrayal years ago. 

Nevertheless, the sickening feeling washes over him once again when he catches Jongin's concerned gaze from across the room. There are questions in Jongin's brilliant brown eyes—questions which will inevitably include _how are you acquainted with Godfrey Gao_ , because there is no doubt Jongin must have seen them talking—and Yifan isn't sure if he's ready to answer them. 

So he does what he does best: running away from the exhibition with a poorly conjured excuse of feeling acutely under the weather. 

Yifan's not oblivious to the way Jongin's gaze follows him all the way out of the hall. It only makes him pick up his pace, wanting to escape from the suffocating atmosphere which seems to have enshrouded the exhibition hall.

★ ★ ★

Although Jongin hadn't chased after Yifan for an explanation on the very same day he'd seen Yifan talking to Godfrey, he eventually does so when the curiosity gets the better of him.

While Yifan initially thought he'd be ready to answer Jongin's questions when the inevitable looms—because he really cares about Jongin, and _wants_ to take their relationship a step further, if the signs he's reading from Jongin is enough to reassure him that his feelings are reciprocated—the panic overwhelms him the moment the question leaves Jongin's lips. 

"How exactly did you become acquainted with Godfrey Gao? You never mentioned it to me when I brought up his name before," Jongin brings this up one evening when they're lounging around on Yifan's sofa, watching yet another rerun of Harry Potter on television. It sounds like an afterthought, judging by the way Jongin still keeps his eyes fixed on the screen, but it makes Yifan sit up in attention, his muscles freezing in place. Perhaps the question is innocent enough in some other person's perspective, but it comes off as grating in Yifan's books. It's not entirely Jongin's fault, when the name of the supermodel itself ticks Yifan off, but he can't stave off the irritation no matter how hard he tries. 

His tongue lets the defensive part of his thoughts slip even before his brain can even fully process what he's about to say. "Do I have to introduce every acquaintance of mine to you? Who do you think you are?" 

Yifan regrets it the moment the words leave his mouth, especially when Jongin's expression sours. Nevertheless, Yifan's pride stands in the way of his apology, and he refuses to back down even when Jongin lets out a hurt, "I was just asking. That reaction was uncalled for, Yifan."

"And you wanted to know, why?" His defensive streak continues, even when his heart is asking him to stop talking. This is another side of Yifan which Jongin has never seen before—never should have seen. When Yifan's irritated, his brain-mouth filter effectively fails completely, and he'd let out one hurtful sentence after the other, even when he knows he's bound to hurt the other party greatly. 

"I was worried, okay?" It's Jongin's turn to raise his voice, which only incites Yifan's anger further. "You seemed incredibly upset during the opening of your photo exhibition when he showed up, and it doesn't seem as though it's the first time you're meeting him from the way you spoke and reacted to him. I just wanted to _know_ —"

"There's nothing for you to know!" Yifan lashes out, cutting Jongin off mid-sentence. Jongin visibly flinches at his reaction, and the rational part of Yifan's thoughts pleads with himself to just shut the fuck up already. "So what if we were acquainted from way before? Does it change anything? Like I said, it's _none of your business_!" 

Yifan's words seem to have pushed Jongin right off the edge. Jongin stands up abruptly, chest heaving from anger and frustration as he stares Yifan down. Yifan _hates_ that he can see the tears pricking at the corner of Jongin's eyes, but no matter how much he tries to apologise for his unnecessary outburst, his tongue is tied, unable to utter anything else. 

"I've never asked for much, Yifan. I continued opening myself up to you, in hopes that one day you'll be able to bring yourself to do the same with me." Jongin's voice is deceptively calm right now, for how much his fists are trembling by his side. "I never forced you to divulge everything about your life. I wanted you to take things slowly, because I can see how reluctant you are in sharing information about yourself. It always seems as though you've built a wall around you, to safeguard yourself from something, and I never knew what that _something_ was—until today." 

Yifan swallows against the invisible lump stuck in his throat, hating himself for how disappointed and _broken_ Jongin looks right now. "Jongin—"

The younger man only raises his hand to stop Yifan from talking. "Look, if you can't trust me enough to let me into your life, then there's not much of a point for me to stick around any longer. I'm _exhausted_ , Yifan. Exhausted of playing this guessing game and having to tiptoe around you whenever we hang out. Good luck in whatever else you do, I guess," Jongin tells him, before turning on his heels and walking right out of Yifan's apartment. 

A part of Yifan _wants_ to chase after Jongin, wants to apologise for the hurtful words he's said in the last thirty minutes, but in the end, the timid part of him wins over the control of his body. Yifan remains frozen on the sofa, the tips of his fingers tingling from the ghost of Jongin's warmth, his mind curiously blank despite the amount of thoughts which have been clogging up his head up until several moments ago. 

He has screwed up, big time, and he's not sure if Jongin would forgive him ever again.

★ ★ ★

There's nothing but radio silence for days, _weeks_ after the incident at his apartment. Jongin had really meant it when he told Yifan there wasn't a point in him sticking around, if Yifan couldn't trust in him enough. It's a great contrast from before, when they'd exchange messages and short phone calls whenever time permits, and Yifan's heart actually aches from how empty his life feels right now. It's almost as though Jongin's departure left a gaping hole in Yifan's life, doomed to never be filled no matter what Yifan tries to do.

He can't even focus on his work, leading to Yifan declining more job offers than he usually would. Anything is better than Yifan delivering substandard photos and tarnishing the name he's built for himself over the last couple of months. 

It's almost laughable, how Yifan had never realised how pathological his level of distrust is, until Jongin had walked right out of his life because Yifan had absolutely refused to open up about his past with Godfrey Gao—or _anything_ else about himself which isn't already public knowledge, for that matter. 

Then again, since his bitter separation from Godfrey, Yifan has never met anyone who exerted such an effect on him. He's never had the urge to divulge his life story to anyone who doesn't already know about it—and this only includes Yixing, Kevin, and Kibum—until Jongin had entered his life. 

But he's afraid, _terrified_ of history repeating itself. Yifan has never been good at dealing with deception, and to be betrayed by someone he actually _loves_ for the second time would deal a huge blow to his pride and faith in other people. He knows it's ridiculous of him to think of Jongin in such a light, especially when the younger man has been nothing short of truthful with Yifan in the past couple of months, but the invasive thoughts just won't leave him alone. 

Yixing aside, Yifan has never seen a person more earnest than Jongin is, and he just _knows_ he needs to try. He needs to get over his dark past with Godfrey, and learn how to open his heart up to those who are willing enough to stay. If there's anyone who's important enough for him to take that leap of faith, Yifan knows now that it's Kim Jongin. 

One problem still remains, though: Yifan isn't sure how he's supposed to approach Jongin, or if Jongin ever wants to speak to him again, even if Yifan apologises for his stupidity. 

He wishes things could be easier.

★ ★ ★

Yixing remains as his voice of reason, even if the way he shows his concern is a bit over the top in terms of harshness.

He practically flips at Yifan the moment he hears what Yifan had done—or _hadn't_ done—to Jongin. Yifan has honestly never seen Yixing this furious before, not even when Yifan had fucked up years ago, and it was an incident which eventually led to the end of their romantic relationship. It happens when he pays a visit to Yifan's apartment, concerned about Yifan's sudden reclusive behaviour, and finds the latter sulking on the sofa while staring at his phone.

"You should have gotten over what that asshole had done to you _years_ ago!" Yixing hisses at him, shaking Yifan by the shoulders once he manages to force the truth out of Yifan. It _would_ have made a hilarious sight because of their sheer size difference, but Yifan is really not in the mood to laugh at the irony. 

Yixing's words sting, but Yifan can't find the willpower to fight back. "I know," is all that he says, though it seems to rile Yixing up even more.

"You know? You _know_?! If you knew, you shouldn't have acted like such an idiot!"

"I know," Yifan says again, numb. It's not as though he hasn't considered his options. 

Yixing almost looks as though he's about to strangle Yifan to death for his stupidity. Nevertheless, he doesn't act upon his inner thoughts, probably having considered that it's not worth landing himself in jail because of Yifan. In the end, Yixing merely sighs and lets go of Yifan's shirt, angrily shoving him back against the sofa and putting enough distance between them to prevent himself from beating the living daylights out of Yifan. Yixing's a saint in that aspect. Yifan would have beaten _himself_ up physically if he could. 

"Look," Yixing exhales noisily, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "I know that asshole's betrayal is hard to swallow, but you _need_ to get over it eventually, Yifan. Are you planning to live the rest of your life dodging relationships, even when your heart craves for companionship?"

Again a quiet _I know_. Yixing swears under his breath. 

"It's been years since I've seen you genuinely happy. And you were the happiest whenever you're with Jongin," Yixing points out again, this time finally turning to look at Yifan. He's seen a fair share of Yifan's messy life, fleeting between multiple relationships within a year of Godfrey's unceremonious dumping. Yifan would always get cold feet just before the relationship starts turning serious—much like his current situation—and end it before they can get past the stage of flirting and mutual pining. Then again, Yifan has never regretted ruining any of it. Until now. 

Yifan offers Yixing a wry smile. "I know." It seems like the only thing he's capable of saying now, even if he knows it's going to piss Yixing off even more. He doesn't think he's ever going to _be_ happy ever again, not without Jongin. Not if Jongin refuses to forgive him for Yifan's inaction. 

"I don't know what you're thinking, but I believe Jongin can make a huge difference in your life, Yifan. Why don't you give yourself a chance to be happy again?" 

Yifan finally raises his gaze when he hears the sadness in Yixing's voice, and realises the angry edge is completely gone from the other man now. There's only genuine concern in Yixing's eyes as he stares back at Yifan. The uptilt in the corner of Yixing's mouth is wry. 

"You think it's worth it?" He asks, voice cracking a little from uncertainty.

This time, Yixing's answering smile is more genuine. More reassuring. "If that's what your heart is telling you to go for, then it's definitely worth it."

★ ★ ★

Fate seems to love bringing them together, even without Yifan explicitly asking for it.

Yifan is completely elated to have been invited by Burberry Korea to do a shoot for their newest Fall/Winter collection, to the point that he hadn't even considered about the possibility of having Jongin as the model he's supposed to work with. Imagine his surprise when an achingly familiar face walks in through the doors of the colonial mansion where the photoshoot is supposed to take place, though this time, Jongin doesn't greet him with as much enthusiasm as he usually does. Rather, Jongin merely acknowledges Yifan's presence with a polite nod, before disappearing into the dressing room to get changed. 

In retrospect, Yifan should have expected Jongin to be paired up with him again for this particular shoot. The larger labels loved having them together, loved the way Yifan captured Jongin through the lens of his camera—something which no other photographer has been able to emulate so far. It probably has a lot to do with the fact that they're both in love, and is hence able to engage well with each other, even with an inanimate object separating them. Yifan's heart clenches painfully at the thought that he might have singlehandedly ruined his future happiness. 

Nevertheless, Yifan wants to commend Jongin for the amount of professionalism he shows throughout the photoshoot, for not walking out of the venue the moment he finds out that Yifan is the photographer-in-charge. Despite the occasional disappointment that flashes across Jongin's features whenever he catches Yifan looking intently at him, Jongin is surprisingly extremely composed throughout the shoot, bringing his usual versatility to the table. Anyone who has never worked with them prior to this wouldn't have suspected anything amiss, and Yifan is glad Kevin isn't available for their schedule that morning. He hadn't told his assistant what had happened between him and Jongin, or how Godfrey had suddenly returned to the picture uninvited. Kevin would probably walk right up to Godfrey and punched him in the face the next time Kevin saw the model—and, as much as Yifan would enjoy watching it unfold, Kevin would probably land his ass in jail, so no thanks. 

He has missed this, really. Being able to shoot Jongin is one of his new-found pleasures in life, and Yifan doesn't think he'll ever grow tired of it any time soon. 

Of course, Yifan has every intention to speak to Jongin after the photoshoot, considering Jongin's track record of hanging around to take a look at his own photos after he changes back into his own clothes. He builds up his courage throughout the session, even giving himself a pep talk at the end of it while still going through his camera roll. He can't afford to screw up any further; this is probably his final chance at rectifying the situation. 

The last thing he expects is for Jongin to walk right out of the studio after muttering a quick thanks to the rest of the staff members, though. Yifan nearly topples the workstation over in his haste to get out of his seat, alarming everyone who's still in the hall with him. He calls out a brief apology, already running out of the hall before anyone can ask him what the rush is about. 

His heart is pounding hard against his ribs as he dashes down the hallway, trying to catch up with Jongin before it's too late. It's probably a good thing that it's raining heavily outside, because Yifan finds Jongin standing at the porch, glancing anxiously at the driveway while waiting for his manager to get the car. Yifan doubles over to catch his breath, which alerts Jongin, and he quickly grabs hold of Jongin's wrist when the man tries to run.

"Jongin, _wait_ —" Yifan pants, feeling his lungs burn from the exertion. He's so terribly out of shape that it's embarrassing. "Can we—can we talk? Please?"

Jongin wrenches himself out of Yifan's grasp, but to Yifan's relief, he makes no further move to walk away. "What do you want with me? I thought you've made it completely clear that you didn't want to talk about yourself." 

His tone is scathing, and Yifan flinches in response. Jongin has a point, though.

"I'm sorry," Yifan straightens himself and holds Jongin's gaze as he says the words, wanting Jongin to know that he's sincere. "I didn't realise I was pushing you away so much. I didn't mean to." 

"Are you really sure you didn't realise it?" Jongin scoffs, glancing at Yifan with a critical eye. "It seemed to me that you were deliberately closing yourself up, hiding your true self from the rest of the world. You were very selective with the things you told me, even when I was being completely honest about myself with you." 

Again, Yifan winces at Jongin's words. Apparently he's more transparent than he thought—or perhaps Jongin is just _that_ good at reading into Yifan. "I'm sorry," he says again. "Some things that happened in the past made it difficult for me to trust anyone else. But believe me when I say I _do_ want to let you in. I just needed some time to think, to ascertain how I really feel about you. And I know what I want now." 

At the very least, Jongin's defensive stance relaxes slightly. "What do you mean?" 

"In the past—Godfrey was an integral part of my life. We dated, you see, and we were very serious with each other. We were supposed to make it into the modelling industry together—him as the model, and me as the photographer. Or at least that was what I thought he wanted," Yifan swallows reflexively as the memories flood his mind, his windpipe closing up when he remembers the amount of pain Godfrey had inflicted upon him. He inhales deeply, pushing those thoughts out of his head; he needs to move on. "Apparently, it was all very one-sided. He needed someone to take photos of him in order to build his own portfolio, and took full advantage of me. In the end, he stole the copies of the photos I had on my computer, and submitted them to a modelling agency on his own. They signed him, of course, and the rest was history."

His confession seems to have caught Jongin off-guard, and Jongin's jaw hangs wide open from shock. "I— wow. I'm sorry, I didn't realise—"

"It's fine," Yifan reassures him with a wry smile. It's not something he's proud of admitting to the rest of the world, after all. Yixing, Kibum, and Kevin are the only ones who ever knew, because they were there with him every step of the way back then. "It has been extremely difficult for me to get over that betrayal, and I'm still trying to do so right now. But these few weeks, with you gone from my life, I've arrived at a very important realisation: I _want_ to place my trust in you. I _want_ to take that leap of faith with you, if you're willing—"

That's when Jongin's manager drives into the porch, making Jongin jump when he honks in order to gain Jongin's attention. Yifan wants to groan at the untimely interruption, but doesn't. Instead, he watches as Jongin turns around to gesture at his manager to wait. When Jongin regards him once again, there's a soft smile playing on his lips, taking Yifan's breath away. It also makes Yifan's heart leap, because he knows what it means. 

"Are you really sure you want to place such an immense amount of faith in me?" Jongin asks, genuine curiosity in his voice. "What if I turn out to be like Godfrey?" 

The question sends a shiver down Yifan's spine, but he steels himself regardless. "It's not as though I haven't considered that possibility, Jongin. I _have_ , which was why I kept pushing you away. But I want to face my fears now, because as far as I can see, you're always sincere in your actions. I hope history won't repeat itself, but I'll cross that bridge when I come to it. So what do you say?" 

Jongin's answering smile grows even wider. "I have another schedule to rush for, but you can set up a date with my manager, and we'll talk through the details again," he teases, though there's a glint in his eyes which tells Yifan he's more than inclined to agree. 

Yifan replies with a giddy grin of his own, feeling the weight lift from his heart. This is the ending he's been searching for all this while.

★ ★ ★

**...epilogue...**

 

Yifan is a bundle of nerves as he steps out of the changing room, feeling entirely out of place in a branded suit. The temptation to duck right back into the changing room to put his own clothes on grows even stronger when he catches his own reflection in the mirror, but his attempt is thwarted when someone grabs hold of his shoulders and steers him away from the cubicle. He throws a forlorn look over his shoulder, only to find the amused face of his boyfriend staring back at him instead.

Yifan does the only thing he can think of—pout at Jongin. "Come on, Jongin. Let me go." 

"No, Yifan. You _promised_ to do this with me, at least once in your life," Jongin says, torn between exasperation and amusement, but he doesn't loosen his grip on Yifan at all. 

In retrospect, Yifan should have known that this was going to be a terrible idea. For someone who's lived his life behind the lens of a camera, it would probably take a miracle for him to be able to pose well in front of it. Yet, when Jongin had proposed for Yifan to join him on a photoshoot, he'd agreed without putting in much thought. 

_Whipped_ , Yixing would say if he ever knew, though it's probably not too far from the truth.

Then again, looking at Jongin's delighted expression as they walk out of the dressing room, Yifan thinks it might not be too bad after all. It's been several months since they've announced their relationship to the public, after dating in the shadows for a year and a half, and the public's response had been surprisingly positive, for a country that's still struggling to accept same-gender relationships. Yifan wonders if it's the effect of the major brands pitting them together all the time for photoshoots, but he's really not complaining. 

"You look fantastic together. I _knew_ this was a great idea," Kibum practically gushes when he sees them joining the rest of the crew on set. Yifan playfully groans when Kibum pulls him into a proud hug, but secretly he just wants to repay Kibum for the faith he's putting in Yifan, for allowing someone who's never modelled before to do a photoshoot in his clothes. He certainly hopes he won't end up disappointing Kibum. 

"Can we get this over and done with already? I can't promise I won't get cold feet and run away, you know," Yifan points out with a straight face once Kibum lets go of him, though he doubles over in laughter when Kibum pretends to look offended at his statement.

That's when Jongin surprises him again by tugging on the lapel of Yifan's coat, pulling him down to eye level. "You better not get cold feet with me, or I'm going to make you pay."

Yifan shuts Jongin up with a reassuring kiss, which gets caught on film by Siwon, the photographer of the day. Kibum seems elated with the way the shot had turned out, and loudly promised that it'll be on the main cover of his new catalogue, even while Yifan and Jongin are still engaged in a lip-lock.

He'll deal with Kibum later.


End file.
